The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The low, rhythmic rumble of the club could be felt from more than a block away, and set the long line of people trying to enter to the beat as they tapped designer shoes and heels, waiting and hoping to be ushered in.

Across the street from it, a pair in the car subconsciously shook their heads to it, looking over the paperwork about the newest club in the area called the “Whisper,” and the illustrious designer, a sound engineer hailing all the way from Munich, Max Albrecht.

“Gotta wonder if they’re technically breaking any city ordinance with that sound; feels deceptively-far reaching,” Tricia commented.

“Most of the buildings around here are businesses closed for the night, except for the convenience stores, but they’re drawing revenue in from the Whisper’s crowd, so I doubt they’re going to complain,” her junior partner Kali solved what seemed like a nagging riddle for Tricia.

“Why is this even a story?” Tricia complained, shuffling through all the details of the club in paperwork from her employing publication that seemed as interested in Whisper as the veteran reporter felt uninterested.

“Probably because some investor on of the club called in a favor for some technically-free advertising in the form of our reporting,” Kali answered, deeply involved in the research papers by comparison.

“Are you going to answer all of my questions like a bored teacher’s pet?” Tricia shot Kali an annoyed look.

“That’s my favorite question so far tonight, as you know that’s practically why I was hired, someone with a dispassionate passion for the stories. And before you pivot to asking my least favorite question, the one you’ve worn out the most—” Kali interrupted Tricia’s attempt to bring up what was really troubling her.

“It was a bust, Tricia. I’m sorry, but that lead just didn’t pan out. Would’ve made for a hell of a story, ‘a secret cabal of hypnotists controlling minds,’ especially if we were ready to submit unprovable fiction.”

“Can you even remember why it didn’t pan out, Kali? Doesn’t it seem odd that we just stumbled onto something like that, and then even our interests just...drops?”

“That’ll happen when you try to turn some random party where a hypnotist performs a trick or two like a clown at kids parties into a big brainwashing plot the Manchurian Candidate writers would be proud of. The guy stumbled into some of his shtick more than we stumbled onto the story,” Kali sighed, willing to laugh at the memories of it if it didn’t seem so pathetic.

“Aren’t you a little young to know what that is?” Tricia took another barely indirect swipe at the younger Indian woman’s age.

“Research knows no ageism, unlike you, senior, forgetful reporter.”

“I wish I could forget, but everything just says it doesn’t feel right?”

“What does feel right to you, Trish? Do you actually believe in this...Kalatravaasa?”

Something flickered in Tricia’s eyes as she heard that sharp, triggering word cut through what seemed like critical thinking.

“What if...just humor me, but what if we got there and it was exactly like we expected it to be? A bunch of people dancing around all mindless, unknowing marionettes to someone’s tune? Just dancing, falling into the music or words in their heads or speakers or something, loving it and waiting to be told what to do? And what if we met that person, and they just...got to us somehow. Not with a spiked drink, but something more subtle, just the way they talked, or got us to focus on something, until just focusing became an oxymoron of a word by itself since there was nothing to focus on except focusing on everything of theirs, and then those puppet strings got onto us, into us, telling us to....forget, and then we obeyed that command, believing after that it was all some fluke...is that...possible?”

Tricia’s wandering thoughts took her to a place she thought was real, or just wanted to believe was real, a cacoethes driving a listlessly-passionate speech nearly to self hypnosis. Kali in the seat next to her tried to play off how the papers dropped out of her loosened grip like it wasn’t an accident brought on by the compelling speech Tricia tried to manifest from wild imagination. Neither women wanted to admit to the wetness thankfully dark seats could mask beneath them.

“I take it back, let’s definitely publish this somewhere, anonymously in one of those rag papers, since we’d get fired for trying to pass off bullshit this as a sweet-smelling substance,” Kali’s dispassionate voice intoned, briefly letting it slip how much appeal it held.

“And before anymore fiction spews out of you, Mr. Albrecht has arrived,” Kali intoned with insistence, putting her papers away and stepping out of the passenger seat, giggling to herself as Tricia almost emerged disheveled from the driver’s side.

Both reporters walked towards the entrance to Whisper in almost matching skirts, blouses, and high-heeled sandals with a few buttons undone at the top for suggestibility. Despite Kali being shorter, wearing glasses and having a darker skin tone, they practically looked like twins, approaching the rock star designer being applauded.

“Excuse me, Mr. Albrecht,” they both spoke together in a rehearsed, almost air-headed cadence, looking and sounding like walking fetish fantasies. “We’re from the local branch of Metro Times, and wondered if you could answer a few questions.”

His reputation in and out of clubs netted Max Albrecht lots of attention from the fairer sex, and with options about, Kali found his thing for twins a way to get in with him where others might falter.

“Why of course,” Max’s thick-accented English crooned at them. “Anything for an eager press.” As was his habit since it opened recently, Max always picked up a few women at the front who caught his eye, who’d be grateful to be let in to an exclusive club, grateful enough to thank him later. He was hoping to get the same plus good press along with it as Max escorted Tricia and Kali inside.

Walking through the club, both reporters could see what made Whisper so special, due to Max’s speakers that were advanced or evolved versions of subwoofers, allowing for a pulsing base, but a clarity in the treble that was unheard of before. Watching everyone react to the music vividly brought Tricia back to her hypno-fantasies still teasing her with being on the possible side of actuality. That side of her gently tugged at the chance for her to get lost in the crowd and dance to her fantasies.

“Kali can handle things, let her nerd out and interview Albrecht while you interview the customers,” Tricia tried lying to herself as her footsteps could’ve easily let her drift into a crowd, but she managed to not be led astray, walking up the the stairs to the owner’s office. Kali was thankful she walked behind Max so as to not let him see her wobbly, unaccustomed feet deal with the high heels.

“Why did you choose these death shoes,” Kali chided her superior.

“It was your research that came up with his inclinations; sorry you’re a victim of your own success,” was fired back.

Upon first impressions, they were positively impressed with the office. Max noticed how Tricia was still in-tune with the music, and enjoyed the way it kept a nice reverberation in the office, as if channeling the energy of the club below in a different way. And Kali was looking at the bird’s eye view of the club below, watching everyone nod their heads to the music as if part of a collective, loving the crowd synchronicity, tapping her bracelets to the beats with her fingers like it was an instrument.

“I didn’t expect the Metro Times would be interested in my club so soon,” Max said, sitting in his chair, gesturing to the ladies to take the seats in-front of his desk.

“Well, it’s quickly becoming the talk of the town,” Tricia resumed the voice Max knew from her. “There’s a lot of buzz around town that everyone wants to attend.”

“I’m sure it’s not so different from most other clubs in the area,” a small attempt at being humble was his retort.

“With the custom sound system you have installed, it’s no wonder it’s so popular,” Kali let out a bit of gushing through her masking voice.

“Oh, you’re familiar with our sound system?”

Tricia tried to shoot Kali a “keep playing dumb” look, but Kali didn’t bother glancing over to see it. “Not sure if what I heard is correct, like your subwoofers have an unofficial code name to them, something like...subhowlers?”

Max’s eyebrows raised a little bit as she correctly guessed what was to be their official name once all the patenting was clear.

“That does sound like a cool name,” Max tried to feign. “I may have to borrow that, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Kali smiled.

“I can pay you for it in access if you like, one way or another,” a suggestive look in his eye stared with Kali, but lingered onto Tricia, clearly stating whom he wanted to spend time with the most. A change in the music made Kali look out into the crowd, watching how they changed along with it as well.

“Actually, if you don’t mind,” Kali interrupted Max’s ill-conceived seduction, “it’s probably best if we have a well-rounded interview with some of the club-goers, the staff, and then circle back to you, if that can count as access.”

“Of course, I appreciate all the exposure you’re willing to give, and I’ll certainly be free later,” he smiled back. Coming slightly off his horny high, but not fully deterred, Max let them walk out of his office, enjoying the exiting view in their practiced hips.

“What the hell, Kali?”

“Just saving you from the leering creep is all,” Tricia’s assistant told her, gently pulling her out of the office and towards the crowd.

“I’ve handled much worse than him, thank you.”

“Before you can confirm how much worse he can be, lets let his little head calm down before we get a quote from his big head, when it has more blood in it than the little one,” Kali made Tricia laugh, the point graciously taken.

“I think I see some of Max’s sound engineers partying over there,” Kali looked over at the bar. “See if you can find anyone famous or notable in the crowd to talk to.”

“Wait a minute, which one of us is leading this report?” Tricia asked, grinning over who was supposed to be in-charge, but happy to see Kali taking initiative.

“Sorry boss. Did you want me to go talk to the engineers while you talk to the pretty people for a quote,” Kali said sarcastically.

“That’s better,” Tricia said, making her subordinate follow her orders.

A few steps into her moving into the dancing crowd, blackness came over her as someone whispered into her ear. The subhowlers proved their worth as Tricia could still hear the lyrics perfectly amongst the bass, but they couldn’t overpower the voice sending a shiver deep into Tricia and making her whole body relax before it could tense in the soft grip of the one giving her orders.

Tricia could only feel herself mouth the word “yes,” as the voice told her to dance in the crowd, and let the sounds of it take her deeper and deeper. Tricia did so without question, letting trance keep her aware of the crowd, but moving into a waking trance only her hypnotist could bring her from soon.

Max was getting through some of the mundane papers to sign, readying himself for the return of the two reporters, imagining how they’d look together, a pair of scantily twins. His imagination was interrupted as the door to this office closed, and a woman dressed in black pants, boots and corset stood in-front of his office, looking at him.

The charming smile returned as he greeted his newest guest.

“Are you lost, miss?”

“Not at all, Mr. Albrecht,” she responded, a low, intelligent tone to her voice.

“No need to be so formal, Miss, especially if you’re not lost. You can call me Max.”

“In that case, you can call me Mistress Alexis,” she smiled, stepping up to the desk as Max’s smile lessened at the sound of the mistress title.

“And sorry to say, I am here for a little bit of...official business, shall we say...” Alexis alluded to, her body language hinting an interest in something, fanning the club owner’s heated hope for something to transpire. Depending on what the business was supposed to be, he hoped to have multiple sessions featuring female admirers if he could manage the timing of their affections right.

“What kind of business did you have in-mind, Mistress Alexis?”

The way he spoke “mistress,” suggested his disbelief in the significance of it, and it made the redhead smile.

Her answer was simply to reach into her cleavage, and pull at a metal chain. Max didn’t know if the chain was to suggest something fetishy, but he didn’t expect a shiny, gold pocket watch to emerge in his view, held high near her knowing face, and then set right in his view.

Max wanted to laugh as he looked up from the watch at its holder; he usually wasn’t one for spoiling a potential mood, but he couldn’t help himself here.

“Are you kidding?” his tone was lightly-sprinkled with incredulousness.

“I’m betting you expected something a little more outlandish to come out of my person to show you.”

Max’s look confirmed what his silence denied.

“Let me guess, handcuffs? A chain for a collar? Something befitting a suggestively bondage-dominant like me? Honestly, I might as well have pulled out a small mp3 player or something, the way everyone outside is bound to the music. Those subhowlers you have are very, very impressive.”

“How does everyone know that name already?” Max complained, his voice raising from what he thought was a well-kept trade secret.

“Wrong question you should be asking,” Alexis said, still holding the watch in-front of him.

“And what’s the right question, Mistress Alexis?” Her name carried an unbidden amount of snark now, eyes staying on her, even as they started to get pulled by his peripheral vision to a slowly-swinging golden watch.

“The right question would be, how good does it feel to reach such an accomplishment? I’m a novice when it comes to sound engineering with the research I’ve done, but I’m sure even a novice can tell that it takes talent and time to accomplish such a feat. Hundreds, maybe thousands of others who do the same work as you wish they could have a tenth of your talent, to even dream-up something like this. What about the thousands, even millions who might’ve told you that your work couldn’t be accomplished?”

As strange as the whole scene was becoming, Alexis’ soothing voice stroked his mind as much as her words stroked his ego. The eventual biography he’d write would tell of an arduous journey to put it lightly, filled with so many doubters. Since he’d proved the subhowlers successful, he’s been swimming in a sea of making doubters eat their words, and was moving towards friendlier waters of admirers and groupies. Somehow it was easy to think about as his eyes followed the golden timepiece back and forth without his realizing that he was even doing it.

“I’ve heard the same, with this watch you see before you, over and over again, boasting with misguided self-pride about how something could never be done, when I know better, about the impossibility, and how it became possible as my talents showed them otherwise, introduced them to a new reality they didn’t know they needed...”

A touch of sympathy and understanding crossed over Max’s face as all the creases in his muscles eased, leaning back into the chair, the gap between his eyesight and the watch never widening as it followed him all the way back to resting his head on the high chair.

“That is a talent few possess, but we understand, especially the time it takes to cultivate that genius, that success, chasing it like your eyes gently chase my watch, always going for the gold,” Alexis almost chuckled to herself as Max became limp in his seat. The hypnotist bet at the angle she bent to keep him staring, he would be stupidly-enticed by the cleavage she’d thought about using for fixation given her attire. But watching his eyes endlessly chase the arch of her watch made her excited instead, as she would begin to shape his.

“How many years did this take to develop? How many seconds is that? Can you start counting them in watch swings? Doesn’t it become easier to count them, knowing that promised, guaranteed, unending success comes with watching and counting? The more you count, the more pleasure you approach. The deeper you go, the better it feels. The more thoughts you lose, the more mindlessness you gain. With every number, all there is, is success. With every swing, all there is is my voice, leading you to pleasure. All you have to do, is follow, and obey...you want to obey me, Max, don’t you?”

“.....y-yesss?”

“As the pleasure grows and the watch continues, you become more sure of your answer. You want to obey me, don’t you?”

“..yes..I..want to obey you.”

“And who am I?”

“Alexis...”

“Mistress Alexis,” she corrected.

“Mistress Alexis,” he sighed.

“Now tell me who you will obey. Repeat who you obey with every swing.”

“I obey Mistress Alexis. I obey Mistress Alexis. I obey Mistress Alexis.”

Alexis’ smile grew wicked as she slowly sped up the arch of the watch, watching his lips and brain falter in an attempt to obey. She let him ridiculously-fail for several minutes before abruptly commanding him to “Sleep!”

Alexis let him rest in his seat for a few minutes. Looking out at the club, she still questioned whether it was a good idea to use such a new, popular club as a prospective Kalatravaasa venue. Even Martin shared his doubts with Alexis in private, but he still insisted that she try. She knew arranging it would be easy, as easy as Max was to take under. But looking at the crowd, she hoped that reserving an entire club like this wouldn’t raise too many questions, at least while she was still involved in things.

Alexis smiled as she picked out the two women who’d visited Max prior, wondering what might’ve happened if they didn’t abruptly leave. Maybe Alexis would have interrupted and temporarily taken three minds instead of one. Or maybe she would’ve had to come to the rescue of either woman if he got too handsy and/or aggressive, not too dissimilar from some other close calls, like her attempt to save Dazzling Lady. Alexis almost sneered at the turn of events, still contending with the fact that a talented peer and someone she was willing to trust with her mind was now someone to be feared. Despite all the things rumored about her, and borderline embarrassing or despicable things Dazzling happily copped to with Alexis, there was some mutual respect there, something the redhead’s intuition still pressed her about, against the logic of her being softened for a blow of domineering permanence that could come later. Both of them being harem owners, it was easy to see herself as a mindless, naked trophy in Dazzling’s living room, proof of her superiority, especially after being surprised at how effectively Alexis turned the tables on her in their first duel.

Putting the uncomfortable thought aside, a satisfied grin replaced a contemplative one as she was happy to conclude Kalatravaasa business that night. Before leaving, she gave Max several deep triggers and strong suggestions that would make it easy to be taken back under whenever she or another Kalatravaasa staff needed. She updated Martin with a text after she was finished, and left the office, snapping her fingers at one of the bouncers she hypnotized to guard the door; he awoke to enter the office to wake Max up, while the passing redhead stayed invisible to his consciousness.

Alexis bypassed the bar where Kali was engaged in conversation with the junior engineers behind the subhowlers, taking a lot of notes. Passing through the crowd, she wondered if then would’ve been a good time to have fun with someone in the crowd, a willing subject who could make for an interesting distraction for a little while.

“Excuse me, but is that a pocket watch?”

Alexis turned her head to see the other reporter, staring down at the chain hanging out of her pocket. An almost sardonic grin crossed the hypnotist’s face as her fingers lightly tapped at the chain.

“I’m sorry, what did you say miss?” was the innocent retort.

“Sorry, I asked if...if the chain hanging out of your pocket was a...a pocket watch. Sorry if it’s a weird question, but it just looks...it just looks like it.”

Alexis’ smile turned a slight shade predatory, taking in all the facial features of someone who may have understood trance and tropes, but looked like her mind already dunked head-first into a light trance, hoping and pleading for something deeper.

Turning to face her with hands on her hips. “And what if it is?” Alexis lowered her tone, leaving some enticement peppering her voice still.

“If it is...” the hypnotist waited patiently, watching Tricia break down her own shyness, urging herself to bypass social niceties and beg for what she wanted.

“If it is, can.....can you please hypnotize me with it? I’m sorry, I know how weird this is, but I’m a big fan of trance and stuff, and I...I really just would love to feel some deep trance if you are a hypnotist. If you’re not, I think swinging that thing back and forth would make you a good one just because I’d love to follow it...IF that’s a pocket watch in the first place....jeez, I’m sorry...”

Blushing beet red, Tricia kept her gaze down at the chain, too humiliated to look into Alexis’ blue eyes but not enough to simply walk away, hoping against hope that she didn’t just out herself as a hypno-junkie in-front of complete strangers.

Slightly-glassy eyes widened in praise as the tapping finger slid the chain up so it emerged with a golden timepiece at the end. The gasp from Tricia almost alerted the surrounding dancers, but certainly sent a thrill up Alexis’ spine.

“No need to be sorry,” the assurance made the reported sigh with a smile, bringing the watch up, twisting the chain in her fingers so only a small length of the chain dangled the pocket watch. “You had a very good guess there. And I hope you won’t mind my making a few guesses now, first of all how magnetized you are to his lovely object.”

Alexis brought the watch inches away from Tricia’s face a few times before dragging it a little ways away. “How magnetic, how magnetized your eyes are to the pretty metal, how helplessly drawn to it you are now.” Quickly taking the hint, the hypno-addicted reporter was led out of the crowd, following the watch as it rested on the back of Alexis’ shoulder. Leading on the subject without looking at her, Alexis walked them to a storage area of club the hypnotized bouncer left open to access. Set down on a sturdy pile of boxes, Tricia happily followed the golden arch that started the moment it emerged from the pocketed sheath.

“See how magnetized you are? Following the watch back and forth, unable to look away, unable to let anything avert your eyes from that natural pull. I’m guessing I really don’t have to say the ‘your eyes will follow, you can’t look away,’ because a hypno-slut like you has it on your mind 24/7, like you were programmed to react this way. It’s a very good guess, isn’t it Tricia?”

The inquisitive reporter inside the hypnosub was buried under too much pleasure to react to her name being spoken by a stranger.

“It’s like, if someone tells you ‘your mental report is due,’ you might have a response that goes something like...”

“...I’m reporting in for Mistress Alexis,” Tricia sighed as an important part of her trance life reactivated and affirmed her place in it, responding to one of the oldest triggers installed in the veritable trance doll who’d had multiple hypnotists dominating her malleable mind.

Long before she’d met or interviewed any other hypnotist of considerable talent, Tricia attempting to do a hit-piece on hypnotists working outside of the therapist profession. Unsavory rumors, several falsehoods, and some real, unfortunate accounts got her looking at the recreational, more risque side of things, and eventually put her on the path to meeting Alexis, led there by a vindictive and unsatisfied previous client of hers.

As obvious as it was to the hypnotist that Tricia was looking to shine a very unflattering light on most hypnosis in-general, Alexis stepped out of her usual comfort zone of consent and discretion before she could be discredited. It didn’t surprise her who sent a reporter her way, and was happy to tell her side of the story, making Alexis’ account turn the whole idea of the article into a non-starter. But learning of whom she was tracking and planning to interview down the line, some dangerous practitioners who would’ve brought lots of validity to the hit-piece, Alexis changed her trajectory and her purpose.

“Hello again Tricia,” Alexis greeted her old sub.

“Hello Mistress Alexis,” Tricia smiled back.

“I trust you’ve been well and busy?”

“Yes, and I trust you completely.” Alexis grinned at how even Tricia’s hypnotized mind was trying to coax a deeper trance state from compliments.

“I’m so happy you do. But if you really want to go deeper like I know you do, you’ll fill me in about this woman you’ve been tracking for me for a while. What’s her name again?”

“Goddess Hannah, Mistress Alexis...”

In a studio belonging to the world-famous competitive dancer Reuben Aleja, the owner himself moved to the music playing in the background, holding in his arms a naturally-talented but highly-opinionated partner he was teaching, as a favor to his friend and generous investor Danielle Avery. Dancing to the routine they’d practiced over and over again, Reuben was impressed with how well his recent was getting most of the routine down, only faltering at the most important points, the points where the leader of the dance was to make certain moves and the follower had their part to play.

As Reuben moved to dip his female partner, he nearly fell as she beat him to it, dipping him instead and almost making him fall over.

“Dammit, Kendra, we’ve practiced this over and over. You really just can’t help yourself, can you?” He began cursing in Spanish as Kendra crossed her arms, silently huffing, cursing back at him in her head.

Off to the side of the studio, Reuben’s assistant Linda stood near Kendra’s friends and sister-slaves Sabrina, Cheryl, and Danielle Avery herself. Sabrina, her girlfriend, shot her a look that softened Kendra’s hardened stubbornness.

“C’mon Kendra,” it was hard not to call her girlfriend Mistress even when whispering, but she obeyed the orders of keeping such an intimate title in private. “Hannah really wanted you to learn this.” It was even harder for Sabrina to not refer to Hannah by her Goddess title, but the magical Englishwoman’s hypnotic will was unquestioned and happily obeyed.

“Ballroom dancing is so goddamn boring. I know she wants different styles for me to hypnotize with, but why start with the most sleep-inducing one” Kendra complained quietly, stepping closer to a giggling Sabrina, trying not to upset the benefactor Danielle and instructor Reuben, as both would snitch on her. As much as she enjoyed being a servile dancer for her Goddess, Hannah’s insistence on Kendra embracing her inner-seductress worked too well as she was becoming as much a dominant and she was a dancer, unwilling to conform to orders given by others.

“Reuben, tell me again why a woman can’t lead in this routine?” She tried to be calm and not label the teachings or the teacher a chauvinist.

“Because it’s a traditionalist dance, in this case, the tradition—”

“Sucks,” Kendra blurted out, rolling her eyes. “I bet you I can convince you it should be a woman leading.”

Reuben simply looked at Kendra, then back to Danielle, the heiress’ face unwaveringly-communicating “no, you can’t quit this lesson.”

“Okay, if you show me how you think it should go, can we go back to completing the original way?”

“Deal,” Kendra agreed quickly. She was tempted to brat her way to agreement with long, agonizing minutes of consideration, but she couldn’t wait to do what she was about to do.

Reuben nodding to Lisa, the music for the song started up again, and Kendra happily pulled Reuben in as if he was the daintier one needing a leader.

“As many times as you’ve listened to this song, I know you’ve heard it, especially with me over and over, but have you ever really listened to it, what the orchestra is trying to tell you?”

An annoyed Reuben noticed that their movements were getting slower, even as Kendra’s body language grew broader, bolder. He went with it if it guaranteed Kendra’s incessant obstinate, even if it added custom audio to the background music that was coincidentally-timed with her words.

“If the sound you hear is beauty, then you should listen to it’s message about promoting beauty, spreading it. And while you, a man, may be handsome, everything about you knows a woman, like me, is beautiful, and should be followed, like music.” Reuben wondered how Kendra could punctuate certain words at the same time her leg emerged from the slit of her dress; he wondered so much that he could still pay attention to it in his peripheral vision as her lips danced on his thoughts as they danced, slower and slower.

“But the longer you listen, the leading beauty makes sense, the more its seems proper why you slow down and let a beautiful dance, a beautiful dancer, take over...”

Words lingered around Reuben as she circled the man growing inevitably still, even ushering Linda over for some who’d become captivated from afar. As Reuben grew strangely-content just watching Linda and Kendra dance, Linda found herself coming to terms with the same doctrine spoken to her employer, becoming statuesque as Kendra danced everyone to a hypnotic state.

Her sister-slave, more than acquainted with Kendra’s hypnotic dancing, grew quiet and appreciative of the showcase, swooning as she was called over as a preferred partner to Mistress Kendra leading the scene to a more erotic routine.

Kendra smiled with glee as she effortlessly continued, with Sabrina down at her feet, touching swaying legs. The woman on her knees appreciated the fact that Kendra continued to sway. Kendra appreciated how the music changed of its own accord to something more beautiful, mindless swooning for the arm that moved along puppet strings, making the fingers dance before her face in a rapid butterfly effect.

From Kendra’s own peripheral vision, she sighed, softly yet so happy as she noticed a brunette standing near the dance studio’s entrance, conducting a new scene with a raised hand bearing a magic pen light.

“Naughty girl,” Goddess Hannah admonished with a smile,” making the illuminated tip of the pen make Kendra take herself back and forth with the sway of her arm.

“You’re supposed to be a student today, not take over the whole class. As your mental guardian, I’m proud that you’ve taken my teachings deeply to heart, though concerned that you’re not taking my instructions as deep, something I’ll rectify right now...”

Minutes or hours later, Kendra found herself on her knees, with Sabrina, Linda, Danielle, and Cheryl occupied most of the seats in Reuben’s office. They were all deep in trance, fully-clothed, yet hands deep in their pants, watching Goddess Hannah sitting on top of Reuben on his hands and knees, being a seat for Hannah. Kendra’s arousal spiked hard as she found her owner in deep control of a crowd again. One leg crossed over another, Hannah’s bare foot waved in Kendra’s face once her dancing slave brought her full attention up.

Kendra fell to her hands and knees trying to follow the dainty, pedicured foot, trying to capture it with her mouth. Before her lips could close themselves around Hannah’s toes, something stopped her from indulging in the implanted fetish.

Sad, panicked eyes looked up at Hannah’s smiling, hypnotic green ones.

“If you’re not interested in learning more dance routines to become more well-rounded, you must not be interested in feet now. Every step of refusal you take, or don’t, shows itself in the feet you thought you liked, you told me you liked...” Kendra only had the energy to follow the foot, on and off her hands, crawling to wherever it roamed at a slow pace. Easy to catch, Kendra forced herself over and over to kiss, lick, suck, show any kind of physical reverence, but something in her held her back.

“You begged for them every time I showed off or offered, you had wet dreams about covering them in your submissive saliva...” Hannah’s soles ran themselves all over Kendra’s face, teasing the woman whose lips numbed to action as the length of Hannah’s foot ran over them.

“Maybe you don’t want my feet anymore...” Kendra lips couldn’t even protest to say how much she disagreed, and how much she needed, on the verge of tears.

“Or, maybe...maybe you could show me how much you want them...” Hannah drew circles with her big toe, and Kendra’s eyes spun with the motion until she was dizzy, head eventually held up as Hannah’s foot went under her dancer’s chin to direct her eyes to shining green ones.

“Why don’t you just GAZE into my eyes now, Kendra. Those Gorgeous, Alluring, Zealous, Ensorcelling eyes...finding yourself sinking deeper into them. And deeper. And deeper. Deeper, until you find my green GAZE becomes stable and hard as you become pliable and soft. The green becomes a dance floor, where you don’t need to look down, but you know you’re in my power. And the routines you want to dance become the routines I want you to dance.”

Kendra could see herself, already anticipating Hannah’s will as she saw her and Reuben dancing under his guidance; the only vestige of self that could change things to her liking replaced Hannah with Reuben, guided purely by the mesmerizing green in her face and beneath her feet.

“You always have your patented harem dance, Kendra, you’ve mastered that quite well. But it’s too easy now, and both you and I long to learn other ways for you to use your body to entrance, to spread my influence, and yours. Dance for me now, Kendra, because I say so, and because every step you take in obedience, rewards you with indulgence...”

Once the part of Kendra’s insistent will broke, on cue, her lips were able to happily suck Hannah’s toes, eyes rolling in the back of her head, unable to wait to show her obedience back in the dance studio...

From Rafael’s second-floor dance studio, Hannah looked down as she found the lesson unfolding like it should, a cooperative Kendra pleasing Reuben and her. She sipped a water bottle Sabrina brought; ever the harem bartender, Sabrina was inclined to have water bottles ready in her bag to hydrate the group in-case of exertion; such was Hannah’s excuse for initiating a quick orgy in Reuben’s office before putting everyone back in their place.

Hannah grinned as the musk of sex permeating Reuben’s office would make him and Linda aroused at the thought of being potentials for Hannah’s harem.

Finally receiving a call she’d been waiting for, she answered her cell phone.

“Hello Master Martin,” Hannah gave the caller a small amount of consideration in her tone saying his title.

“Hello Goddess Hannah,” Martin made sure to extend a reverent enunciation of her title. “Thank you for accepting my call, I wasn’t sure if we were going to be hearing from you.”

“Well, as the rumors about this Kalatravaasa spread, it did make me curious of your formal invitation.”

“As did the rumors about you, Goddess Hannah, pleasantly-impressive ones if you were curious.”

“Such as?”

“Well, the way you seemingly combine magic and hypnotism, if the rumors are true, seem...”

“Dangerous?” Hannah guessed at the adjective he was looking for.

“Unparalleled.” Hannah silently took what sounded enough like a compliment.

“Unparalleled is a good word, and a good description of the power grabs I’ve been hearing about with regard to the Kalatravaasa.”

“And speaking candidly, while we have garnered some rumors like that, I wonder if yours are believable, having a strong say in the Avery empire of all organizations.”

Hannah’s silence said enough, as did Martin’s silent smile.

“I know Gerald Brandt was afraid of us given a few unruly members and misunderstandings, but it’s funny if the people he tried to align with became his rulers. And just as well, big companies should be run by more sensible parties.”

“IF the rumors are true,” Hannah reminded him.

“Of course. But all of that aside, the general offer still applies; if you were interested in presenting at a show, we would more than adequately compensate you for your time, and you could get your own look at what we’re all about, an in-person judgment.”

“And how do I know that everyone there will be on their best behavior?”

“Honestly, there are those like me who will try to keep behaviors in-check, but we’ll behave hopefully as much as you will. And you’re allowed to bring whatever entourage you choose for peace of mind and/or security if you wish.”

Looking over the dance scene, knowing both were being cagey about abilities and intentions, Hannah gave an even response.

“I will give your offer the consideration it deserves, and get back to you,” Hannah’s tone was diplomatic, giving Martin hope as it wasn’t the flat out or thinly-veiled “no” it could’ve been.

“I appreciate that, and thank you again for your time Goddess Hannah.”

“Nice speaking with you, Master Martin,” she replied back before ending the call.

Ever since Brandt had mentioned it the day Hannah took unofficial control of the Avery empire, the word “Kalatravaasa” had been synonymous with “curious.” It leaned on the morbid side of curiosity as every one of the rumors spoken about them were all accounts of people she wouldn’t automatically trust. And from sources she didn’t consider dubious like Tricia, there wasn’t much officially to go on yet.

Knowing the kind of rumors that would spread about her if she didn’t curate certain minds expediently enough, she gave them the benefit of the doubt in small regards. There wasn’t a real need to accept their offer or gain the notoriety that could come with making some grand, guarded appearance, but she figured it wouldn’t be long before her curiosity demanded some satiating. Either way, she would be prepared.

The thought of the impromptu harem session that took place reminded the magician that sometimes snap decisions could be a benefit. Looking over all the faces of those she controlled, she wondered what Tricia was up to, and more curiously, what was keeping Anna busy as to not see her sister-slave perform. Deciding to satisfy at least one curiosity, she put in call to check on her absent slave.

The Korean exec spent the latter part of her intended half-day pouring over details she’d looked at before, giving a poor once-over, attempting to look busy as her thoughts ran towards other things of greater importance. An older version of Anna would’ve chastised her underlings for even a hint of daydreaming at the office, including her now-sister-slave Cheryl.

But since Hannah had inducted Cheryl and Anna into service, but boss and subordinate found incredible joy in after-work “socializing,” including pleasing one another, giving Cheryl a chance to thrive and be a boss, and both happily kneeling at their Goddess’s feet. More of the staff loved current-Anna, and it seemed to work out for everyone as a less fearful office pool made for a more productive one.

Anna only realized how lost she’d gotten into her own daydream as a knock on her door frame revealed Anna’s secretary and a man in a suit.

“Ms. Jeong, A mister Parker here to see you,” the secretary said, looking a bit dreamy herself. The secretary walked away with a smile.

“Hello, Mr. Parker,” Anna rose to shake the man’s hand.

“Please, call me Brian,” he reached out to shake her hand, but strangely coming around the desk to actually make contact. Anna was thrown off as she kept her hand out, dragging it towards a very strange gesture that ended with a firm jolt of his hand yanking hers and filling her ear with a soothing tone about sleep and enjoying this state.

“B-Brian...w—”

“Please, call me Master Brian. And hush now, Anna, just listen and follow and fall into that feeling you know, that you body aches for, that you’re getting right now as you listen and fall, and listen, and fall...”

It could’ve been a few minutes or hours later, but suddenly Anna found herself seated next to the organizer of the local chapter of hypnoslaves anonymous. Master Brian look reassuringly at Anna who’d just admitted she still indulged, like an addict ruining her life.

“I’m...I’m sorry Master Brian...I-I just can’t help myself,” Anna’s face fell into her hands, venting her frustration on why her body and mind loved Anna being a hypnoslave, and what it was doing to her life. It was so easy to confide in Master Brian though, as his calming voice took away all self-judgment and bad thoughts.

“It’s okay, Anna. It’s okay. Everyone slips with this; sometimes we just can’t help it. It’s always a back and forth process...” something about the way he said the last statement made her look up to find a silver watch with a spiral engraving on it pull her eyes according to this words.

“It’s always a back and forth Anna, but we must look for control when that happens Anna. We must look for control.”

“Control...?”

The word sounded so foreign to her ears in-regards to her, she was so, so used to Goddess Hannah, her hypno-dealer, assuming all control, wondering if her addiction was dangerous or if her dealer actually cared about her at all.

“Yes Anna, control. And if you cannot find it in yourself, you can find it, and confide it in me, Anna. Find control in Master Brian. Confide in Master Brian. Let his confidence fill yours. Let my confidence fill your mind, Anna.”

How foreign it felt to experience someone else’s hypnosis besides Hannah’s or Kendra’s dancing was the only source of apprehension, but the familiar feeling kept her interested in the process happening to ask it to stop. As Master Brian droned on, and on, and on, letting the watch spiral her much earlier into the feeling than she was expecting happen. The dull, primitive part of her brain that didn’t care where pleasure came from was stimulated and Anna fell into Master Brian’s words.

“You love hypnosis.”

“I love hypnosis.”

“You love being hypnotized.”

“I love being hypnotized.”

“Hypnosis is what you want all the time.”

“Hypnosis is what I want all the time.”

“You trust anyone who can give it to you.”

“I trust...anyone who can give it to me.”

Master Brian’s eyebrow raised as the watch continued to swing.

“You trust anyone who can give it to you.”

“I trust anyone who can give it to me.”

“You trust anyone who can give it to me.”

“I trust anyone who can give it to me.”

“Goddess Hannah can give it to you.”

“Goddess Hannah can give it to me,” Anna spoke easily.

“Master Brian can give it to you.”

“...Master Brian can give it to me.”

“Master Brian can give it to you.”

“Master Brian can give it to me.”

Brian punctuated that point several times as he dragged Anna’s body out of the seat, making her kneel, not noticing of his arousal sporting through his suit pants.

In the middle of beginning to place himself on equal footing with Hannah’s control, Anna’s cellphone rang. Brian looked over to notice it was her goddess calling. A few seconds later, Anna happily answered it.

“Hello?”

“Are you busy or driving?”

“No Goddess,” Anna chirped.

“Very good, because Anna rests within Hannah,” the sensually-spoken trigger set Anna into a much deeper trance than Hannah realized, and Brian watched happily as the conversation seemed totally undisturbed and private.

“Yes, I’ll be there soon, Goddess Hannah. Thank you,” Anna swooned before hanging up the call. Brian placed the watch back in her face the moment the phone left her ear.

“She’s expecting you very soon?”

“Yes Master Brian,” Anna said with nearly as much enthusiasm.

“Oh, what a pity, we’ll have to play later sometime,” his excitement slightly deflated, but still enjoyed the opportunity to mindfuck her.

“But before you go, you should always remember that Master Brian can...”

“Master Brian can give it to me,” Anna phrased without pause.

“And that can stay between us, between you and the one you can confide it. Goddess Hannah need not know that I control you.”

“Yes Master Brian.”

“Repeat it,” he ordered firmly.

“Goddess Hannah need not know that you control me,” became the repetition that gave Master Brian a foot hold in Anna’s mind, and a spy in Goddess Hannah’s Harem on behalf of the Kalatravaasa.